


Across the Distance

by Flynne



Series: Thaddeus Ryder [9]
Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Post-Game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22757794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flynne/pseuds/Flynne
Summary: Gil disappears from Kadara Port without a trace. While Ryder desperately searches for him, Gil does what he can to stay alive and hold on to the hope that he'll be found.
Relationships: Gil Brodie/Male Ryder | Scott, Gil Brodie/Ryder, background Vetra/Sis!Ryder
Series: Thaddeus Ryder [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1022556
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Minor content warning for gun violence and background/unnamed character death in the first chapter. Canon-typical violence throughout the rest of the story.

Things were supposed to be better now. They were supposed to be safe. 

Thad gripped the Nomad’s steering wheel so tightly that his hands ached. The suspension rattled ominously as the vehicle bounded up the steep incline. Taking the road, however rough, would be easier, but would add at least fifteen minutes to the trip back to Kadara Port, and the worry churning in his chest making it hard to breathe drove him to take the fastest way possible. 

Gil wasn’t answering his comm. He’d missed his check-in with Kallo, hadn’t replied when Suvi called him, and SAM couldn’t pinpoint his location. 

“We’ll find him, Thad,” Vetra said firmly. “It’s - ”

“Don’t tell me it’s going to be okay,” Thad cut her off, uncharacteristically sharp. “SAM doesn’t know where he is.”

Vetra didn’t answer, hanging on to the door handle of the passenger seat in grim silence. Neither she nor Drack had objected when Thad abruptly ended their meeting with the settlers near the outpost, following him without question as he’d bolted for the Nomad. They’d been in the middle of briefing the settlers about rumors of slave traffickers when Suvi’s worried hail had come in. 

Thad swallowed hard against the choking dread. He knew he could be overreacting, but Gil was never out of comm range of the  _ Tempest _ and always answered even if Kallo called him. His comm had been dark for more than two hours. 

And SAM couldn’t find him. 

* * *

Gil woke to the sensation of crippling nausea, which wasn’t helped by the fact that he was rattling around on a grimy metal floor. His attempt to sit up failed, and it took a hazy few seconds for him to realize that his wrists were bound together behind his back. Fear hit him then, bright and sharp, and he lurched upright with an effort that wrenched every muscle in his back. He slammed into something soft that pushed back, and it took another panicked moment before he realized he was in the back of a small cargo transport, crammed in with two women and four other men. 

“What - ?” His voice caught in his parched throat and he gulped raggedly and tried again. “What’s going on?” 

“What do you think?” 

His blood turned to ice under the furious, frightened glares of the others. “Shit.  _ Shit.” _ He wrenched at the bindings on his hands. “SAM? SAM can you hear me?”

“Shut  _ up, _ ” the woman who had spoken to him hissed, prodding his knee sharply with her boot. “If they hear you making noise, you’ll be sorry.” Gil fell silent but kept twisting his hands, flexing his fingers in an attempt to activate his omni-tool. Unyielding plastic bit into his skin.

“It won’t work,” the woman told him, keeping her voice low. “They have a hand-held EMP device. Your tool is fried.”

“W-where are we?”

She shrugged listlessly, strands of salt-and-pepper hair clinging to her sweaty forehead. “Kadara, somewhere.”

Gil slumped back against the wall. Panic fluttered in his chest like a caged bird, and he had to fight to keep from hyperventilating. What the hell had happened to him? He struggled to remember where he’d been before. Kadara Port. Saying goodbye to Thad before he left with Vetra and Drack to check on settlers living in remote areas. Sitting at the bar in Kralla’s Song, keeping one hand on his beer at all times because even though the worst of the trouble on Kadara had been cleared up, you could never be too careful. 

A fight breaking out, someone jostling him from behind, nearly knocking him from his stool, forcing him to let go of his drink to catch himself. He’d looked away for five seconds. After that…nothing, until waking up bound and in the dark. “How...how long has it been?”

Before she could do more than shrug, the transport lurched to a halt with a bang and a sickening screech. Gil and the others were hurled prone by the sudden stop. The sound of furious swearing filtered in from outside. He strained to hear but couldn’t make out anything clearly until the vehicle shifted as their captors disembarked.

“We’re too close to the port. Someone’ll see ‘em if we try to take ‘em with us. I say we cut our losses.”

“What?”

“Get rid of ‘em.”

One of the men gave a panicked moan, and all of the prisoners tensed at the sound of heavy boots crunching on gravel moving to the back of the vehicle. 

Sunlight flooded in as the door flew open. Gil shrank back, straining to adjust to the light as a hulking silhouette of a man hove into view. Sunlight flashed off the pistol in his hand. 

Gil’s heart hammered but he managed to force out, “Wait, I can help - ” His words were swallowed up by the first gunshot. One of the women shrieked. Gil cowered and shut his eyes, but drew breath again to shout, “Stop!” The gunman fired again and a second man slumped to the floor. “Stop!” Gil screamed. “I can help! I can fix it!”

“Fix what?”

Trembling, Gil lifted his head. A second man stood in the doorway, putting a restraining hand on the arm of the shooter. He sucked in a shuddering gulp of air and said, “I’m an engineer. I can fix the transport.” 

The second man gave him a long, assessing look. “Okay,” he drawled at last. “You got one chance. Make it quick.” 

Gil didn’t dare look at the other prisoners. The gunman stepped back to make room as he reached the doorway but kept the barrel trained on him. 

“You’re not a biotic, are you?” the second man asked. 

“No,” he said quickly. The man reached out anyway, pawing roughly at the back of his head to check for an amp. Gil forced himself not to flinch away, keeping his eyes firmly on the ground as his captor finished his inspection and, apparently satisfied, loosed his bonds.

Gil stepped out into the baking sun. The back door of the transport slammed shut behind him and both men followed him around to the front. The engine access panel was already open. One of his captors dropped a kit full of alarmingly battered tools in front of him. Mouth dry, he braced himself on the sun-heated metal and leaned in. The smell of burned wiring tingled in his nose and his already unsettled stomach flipped over; he didn’t have the supplies to fix a serious electrical problem. But he had to try, so ignoring the ache in his head and his shaking hands, he pried open the engine cover.

It wasn’t good. Before joining the initiative, it would have been an impossible fix. The Gil Brodie of six hundred years ago would have been stymied without a proper workshop. But months spent jury-rigging everything from oxygen scrubbers to fuel cells to hot plates had taught him a thing or two about improvising. The impatient glares of his captors made sweat break out on his neck and trickle down his back, but he managed to take wiring from the lights and adapt it to replace the engine parts that had shorted out. He backed away from the vehicle when he was finished and put the tools back in the box, standing with his hands clenched in anxious fists as he met the eyes of the men watching him.

“That’s it?” the boss asked.

He nodded tightly. “It’s not going to work forever but it’ll get the job done.”

“You’d better be right.” 

The implicit “or else” would have made Gil roll his eyes if he’d been watching a movie, but now it only made his guts clench with cold dread as one of the others attempted to start the engine. It rattled alarmingly for a second or two before humming to life. His shoulders slumped in relief, even as his hands were bound again. The boss seized him by the arm and marched him to the back of the vehicle once more.

He slumped to the floor as the door slammed behind him, drained and shaking, soaked in cold sweat as the transport started moving again.

“I’m not sure we should thank you,” the woman said wearily, “...but thank you.”


	2. Chapter 2

They’d found bodies out in the wastes. Two bodies: both male, both human, both killed by a single gunshot. Sloane’s men had found them in the middle of the road, probably dumped from a vehicle.

Thad didn’t recognize either of them. “Where did you say you found them?”

“About twenty klicks into the hills south of the port.” Sloane crossed her arms. “They’re like roaches. Every time I think we’ve wiped them out, more crawl out of hiding.”

“Who crawls out of hiding?”

“Traffickers.” She scowled. “Not sure where they’re taking people once they get them, but they’ve done this before. Dump bodies if they think they’ll be a burden for some reason.”

Barely-controlled fear thrummed along his nerves. “You’ve never found any of their victims?” 

“Not alive, we haven’t.”

Drack rumbled in displeasure. “Not helpful.”

Sloane returned his glare measure for measure. “He asked. I answered. For all I know, they’re shipping people offworld.”

Thad swallowed tightly. “Close the port.” 

She gave him a sharp look. “What?”

“Close the port. Please.” 

“I can’t close the port for one missing person! If I locked down every time someone on Kadara went missing, we’d never be open.”

“You  _ owe _ me!” Thad clenched his fists to stop his hands from shaking. “Please. Just give us some time to look for him.”

Sloane’s eyes flicked across the room to Kaetus. He held her gaze for a moment, mandibles flicking slightly. Sloane let out a long sigh, tension in her jaw easing. “Six hours,” she said quietly.“That’s as long as I can give you. But I don’t think it’ll help. Ships don’t have to leave the planet through Kadara Port. If they have space and enough fuel, the right sort of shuttle can lift off from anywhere.”

“I know.” Thad watched Kaetus slip through the door to carry out the lockdown order. He wanted to feel relief that she’d listened, but all he could feel was helpless. “But thanks anyway.”

* * *

The transport slowed and halted. Gil pressed himself back against the wall, heart hammering impossibly faster. He waited in dry-mouthed silence as their captors circled around to the rear doors again and flung them open. 

“All right. Everybody out.” The boss gestured with his gun and one by one, the prisoners obeyed, awkward with their hands bound behind their backs. Gil was the last to slide out. He looked around for any sign of familiar landmarks but saw nothing - only the lengthening late afternoon shadows cast by the jutting peaks surrounding them, and the small shuttle idling fifty yards away.

His breath caught in his throat, sharp and choking, and only when the woman who had spoken to him in the transport shoved him with her shoulder did he realize that he’d stopped walking. 

“Keep moving,” the boss told him. 

_ No! _ His mind screamed and he felt sick with fear. Despite the danger, he knew that Thad and the others would have missed him by now, and some desperate part of him had been hoping that he would be found. But leaving the planet…

“Go,” the woman hissed, shouldering him again.

“Please,” the word escaped before he could stop it, and he shrank back under the fierce glare he got in return.

“Last chance.” The boss casually aimed his rifle. “Be a shame to lose a useful person like you, engineer, but I don’t have time to waste. I won’t tell you to get moving again.” 

Despite the threat, it took a final shove from his fellow prisoner to get him moving, and he stumbled into the cargo compartment of the shuttle in a daze. Their captors locked the door, leaving Gil and the others with only the dim gray glow of the safety lights to see by. The shuttle lifted into the air with a labored rattling sound that diminished as it left the atmosphere. 

The shuttle drifted on its thrusters for a while before they felt the tug of inertia as it settled with an unsteady clunk. All the prisoners shifted uneasily, but although they heard the shuttle doors opening, heavy footsteps, and voices calling out as the crew disembarked into the ship that had picked them up, no one came to open the cargo compartment. Another few moments of jumbled noise from outside, and Gil felt the telltale rumble of the ship’s engines igniting. 

He couldn’t stop shaking. With each kilometer the shuttle had climbed, the ache in his chest had grown worse, as if the increasing distance between Thaddeus and himself was tearing at his heart like a grappling hook. He pulled his legs up to his chest and curled forward to rest his forehead on his knees, ignoring the tightness across his neck and shoulders as the angle pulled awkwardly on his bound hands, closing his eyes in an attempt to shut out everything around him. 

*

Against all odds, he slept. The lingering effects of whatever they’d used to drug him and the exhaustion after hours of sheer terror were enough to push him under. He woke with a gasp when the sound of the engine changed, eyes darting around the dim compartment. One of the other men had fallen asleep as well, and he stretched out a leg to carefully prod the man’s knee with the toe of his boot to wake him. 

He felt the shift as the ship entered atmosphere, huddling back against the wall of the shuttle. Waiting and listening to renewed footfalls and shouts as their captors prepared to disembark was agonizing, but his fear spiked again when the cargo door clanged open. 

Several armed silhouettes stood in the doorway. “All right. Everybody out.” The leader’s voice sounded muffled and hollow, and as Gil’s eyes adjusted he saw a filter mask and goggles covering his face. He had just enough time to wonder why before the outside air mingled with the stale air inside the shuttle, and the acrid odor made him catch his breath. Two of the others started coughing.

“We can’t breathe!” one of the men choked out.

“Sure you can. You just won’t like it much,” the boss said dispassionately. “Get moving.”

Backhanded reassurance from an armed captor didn’t go very far, but there wasn’t much they could do. Gil complied as quickly as he could, chest hurting in earnest now as the harsh air burned his lungs. There was oxygen in the atmosphere - there had to be, or they’d all be unconscious - but it didn’t feel like enough, and Gil found himself fighting a different kind of panic as he struggled to breathe. He couldn’t take time to adjust, though. A gun barrel prodded him in the back, and he hurried to comply, eyes stinging and throat dry as sandpaper. 

He was herded along with the others into a cave that opened up into a vast underground bunker. The air was a little better inside, but not much, and his legs prickled with pins and needles by the time they’d reached their destination. The slavers unbound his hands and pushed him through a narrow, dark doorway and slammed the door shut behind him. He leaned his shoulder against the wall, catching his breath, and it took several minutes for him to realize that the older woman had been shut in along with him. The only light in the cell came through a narrow window near the top of the door, but he could see her shaking as she gasped for breath.

“Hey.” His voice came out as a croak, but it got her attention. “You all right?”

“That’s a hell of a question to ask at a time like this,” she said dryly. But she sighed and went on to say, “For the most part. Probably.”

He nodded in acknowledgment and slid down the wall to sit heavily on the ground, arms draped over his knees. Between the foul air and the despair that threatened to crush him, he could scarcely draw breath. He was still alive, and relatively unhurt, but it meant nothing if Thaddeus couldn’t find him. He was lost, with no means and no power to let himself be found, and the future was now a terrifying void yawning open before him.

“Are you?”

Gil started. “What?”

The woman was sitting across from him, watching him. “Are you all right?”

“That really is a stupid question, isn’t it?” His voice was an unsteady rasp. He tilted his head back to rest against the wall. 

“My name’s Laura.”

“Gil.” He wet his lips. “Do you know where we are?”

“Not a clue.”

He hadn’t expected her to know, but hearing her say it still made his heart sink. He wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his forehead on his knees, trying to make himself feel as if he weren’t going to fall apart. 

“You have someone who will be looking for you?”

The question startled him, and he looked up to see her gaze flick from his hand back up to his face. His left hand, with the simple band, smooth, narrow, and unadorned to keep it from getting in the way as he worked. 

“Yes, my h-” He had to stop and swallow against the knot in his throat. “My husband.”

“Came from the Milky Way together, did you?”

“No. We met here. Got married a few months ago.”

Laura’s face softened in pity. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, well…” If she kept looking at him like that, he really  _ was _ going to fall apart. “What about you?”

“Nope. I joined the Initiative because I liked being on my own.” She smiled humorlessly. “Not sure if that makes this situation better for me or worse.”

Gil didn’t know what to say to that, and Laura didn’t try to talk to him again. He sat in silence, hoping it would get easier to breathe the bitter air (it didn’t), and listening for any indication that their captors would be coming back (he heard nothing). His fear eventually subsided - it didn’t depart by any means, but with nothing else to do, he was finally able to think. He wondered if he should have told the slavers who he was. If they’d known the Pathfinder himself would come looking for him, maybe they wouldn’t have taken him. 

But the echo of the gunshots that had killed his fellow prisoners still rang in his ears. Maybe they wouldn’t have taken him, but they wouldn’t have let him live. And now that they were away from Kadara, killing him would have an even lower risk of consequences. But even if he survived this, he had no way to find his way home. And for all he knew, the atmosphere in this place was slowly killing him anyway. 

Gil closed his eyes and tried not to think anymore. 


	3. Chapter 3

Kadara Port reopened six hours later, accomplishing nothing but irritating the port master and leaving a dozen pilots cursing Thad’s name. Not to his face, of course, but he recognized the looks he was getting. 

But it didn’t matter. Their search had found nothing. And Sloane had been right. SAM had logged at least eight launches from elsewhere on Kadara during the lockdown. Most of them couldn’t be tracked, and the ones that could all led to dead ends. And there was no way of knowing if Gil had been taken from Kadara before the lockdown - or if he’d even been taken from the planet at all. 

Thad gritted his teeth as the Nomad rattled over another rough patch of road. It was long past nightfall, but nobody had suggested that he return to the  _ Tempest _ . He tapped the brakes as the Nomad started down an incline, depending solely on the vehicle’s sensors to navigate. The lights were off, forcing him to drive slowly, but he wanted to be able to scan the horizon for any source of light that might give away a hidden settlement. So far he’d seen nothing. 

In the seat beside him, Vetra cleared her throat. “Ryder…”

His jaw clenched. “Don’t.”

She was undeterred by his clipped tone. “It’s time to go back.” 

He didn’t answer her. 

“The Nomad’s on its last power cell. If you don’t turn around now, we won’t make it back to the port.” Thad’s hands tightened on the wheel until they ached. “Ryder. Pull over.”

Thad wanted to refuse, but a glance down at the dash told him she was right. He lifted his foot from the pedal and the Nomad drifted to a halt. He sat in the darkened vehicle, head bowed over the wheel, eyes burning with fatigue and grief. Now that the Nomad had stopped, he realized he was gripping the wheel so tightly that his hands were shaking. When he let go, the shaking got worse.

Vetra laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Let me drive.”

He nodded, throat too tight for him to speak. He unbuckled his restraints and pushed himself out of the seat, listing unsteadily as a wave of dizziness swept over him. 

“Whoa.” Vetra braced a hand against his chest, helping him shift over as they switched seats. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just...a little lightheaded.”

“That’s no surprise,” Drack grunted. “You haven’t eaten anything all day.”

Thad frowned, sluggish thoughts clunking over as he tried to parse through everything that had happened, and the furrows in his brow deepened as he realized Drack was right. Aside from a hastily eaten ration bar early that morning, he’d had nothing. They’d planned to meet Gil back at the port for lunch, but… “...Oh.”

“Yeah. ‘Oh’. Don’t suppose you brought any snacks with you?”

“I...no.” He grimaced. “Sorry. Sorry, you guys must be hungry, I didn’t think - ”

“We’re fine,” Vetra interrupted. “We had to keep looking. And I got in the habit of bringing dextro ration bars with me years ago.”

“And I don’t need to eat as often as you do,” Drack finished. “So don’t worry about it.”

Despite their assurances, shame joined the nauseating tangle of cold fear and hunger pangs in his belly, and he hunched forward with his arms folded tightly over his middle. He stared out into the darkness until his eyes burned, but he saw nothing. 

Suvi was waiting when they disembarked back at the  _ Tempest _ . Vetra gave Thad a steadying hand as he climbed out of the Nomad, then stepped aside to make room. Thad folded into Suvi’s outstretched arms, fighting to keep his composure as she pulled him into a fierce hug. “It’ll be all right,” she whispered. 

“I don’t even know where to start looking,” he said shakily. “He’s not in the port, nobody saw where he went - Umi thinks she saw someone helping him walk out of the bar but she didn’t get a good look. But Gil doesn’t drink like that, he shouldn’t have needed help to walk. Someone  _ took  _ him, Suvi, and I - ”

“We’ll find him,” she said firmly. “We will.”

Thad’s chest locked and he couldn’t answer, but he let Suvi steer him back toward the galley where he choked down a meal without tasting any of it. The sick feeling in his stomach didn’t abate, but his dizziness eased, and he made it to his cabin under his own power. He slumped back against the door in the dark room, trying to keep his breathing under control. “Have you found anything at all, SAM?”

_ “I am sorry, Thaddeus. I have not.” _

Thad just nodded, unable to speak but knowing SAM would sense his acknowledgment. 

_ “You should rest _ ,” SAM murmured in his ear. “ _ I will continue monitoring system traffic and communications and will wake you at once if I find anything.” _

“I don’t think I can,” Thad said hoarsely. But he shed his armor and dropped onto the mattress, trying to ignore how cold and empty the bed felt. He was exhausted, but he lay awake for hours, aching and desperately afraid, until he finally fell into an uneasy slumber.

* * *

For a long time, Gil sat tense and straining his ears for any hint of voices or footsteps. No sound reached his ears, though, and eventually his body relaxed in spite of itself. His heartbeat was still an anxious, heavy drumming behind his ribs, but he didn’t have the energy to remain alert for long and eventually he sank into a dull fugue without realizing it.

He startled badly when the door screeched open, slamming back against the wall behind him. 

“What else can you fix?”

Gil stared up at the slaver boss looming the doorway, and it took a minute for him to realize the man was talking to him. “What?”

The man frowned impatiently behind his mask. “You’re an engineer. You fixed the transport. Can you repair things other than vehicles?”

“Um.” He swallowed with a dry click. “Y-yes. Mostly vehicles but I can do other - ”

“What about Remnant technology?” 

“I - I’ve worked on it a little, but - ”

“Good. Get up.” When Gil’s only response was an open-mouthed stare, the man scowled and prodded him sharply in the side with his boot. “Get up!”

Gil hurried to comply, hiding his wince. The door slammed shut behind him before he could glance back at Laura. He walked ahead of the boss when he was bid to, hating to obey without question but afraid to invite violence if he didn’t. His shoulders tightened at the thought that he might get a bullet in the back without warning, and he fought against the urge to hunch defensively as he walked through the gently curving tunnels. He wondered how the slavers had found the place; they clearly hadn’t carved it out of the rock themselves. 

They emerged in a dimly lit room that held a few tables piled with scattered tech components, Remnant to Initiative to Angaran. “This is your lucky day, Engineer,” the boss told him. “Make yourself useful, repair what we bring you, and we sell the tech instead of selling  _ you _ .” 

Although he hated the idea of working for these men, Gil was scared enough to feel relieved. Being abducted was bad enough, but the more he was moved, the less chance there would be that Thad could find him. So he didn’t hesitate before he nodded and said, “I’ll need more light than this. And tools.”

“We can make that happen. Anything else?”

“Um.” Thinking quickly, he took a risk. “I’ll need an assistant. Remnant technology is tricky. The woman you locked up with me could help.”

The man regarded him evenly. “Who is she to you?”

“Nobody! No one, I swear. Just an extra pair of hands, is all.” Sweat beaded along his hairline under the boss’ cold glare, but finally the other man’s shoulders relaxed.

“Fine. You get your assistant. But if she can’t help like you say she can, you’ll shoot her yourself.”

Gil had thought he was maxed out on how frightened he could be, but he’d been wrong. He felt himself blanch at the threat, but steeled himself and didn’t flinch. He simply gave a tight nod in return. He stayed where he was when the boss told him to wait, bracing his palms on one of the tabletops for support. He was sure that the components on the table in front of him were familiar, but in the half light with panic fizzing like static in the back of his head, he couldn’t recognize anything. His eyes prickled ominously but he gritted his teeth and swallowed against the press of tears until it subsided.

He looked around when he heard footsteps to see Laura escorted in by one of the other slavers. She gave him a grim look as she moved to join him but didn’t speak until their guard retreated to ostensibly look for a light source. “Want to tell me why they think I’m an engineer too?” she asked, voice terse and low.

“They want me to rebuild tech for them,” he whispered back. “I told them I’d need an assistant.”

“I’m a  _ botanist! _ ” Laura hissed. 

One of these days, he'd get better at fighting off these resurging waves of panic. “Then fake it!” he hissed back. “We don’t have a lot of options here! Either we work for them, or they sell us. Or kill us. Or, I don’t know, they find a way to do both. Just  _ work with me. _ ”

She stared at him with narrowed eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I’m scared shitless and don’t want to be alone, all right?” he snapped back. “Look, if you want to tell them I was wrong and take your chances with whatever they do with you, I won’t stop you. But I’m trying to help.”

The sound of clattering and footsteps caused her to bite back whatever response she might have had, and they watched each other warily as their guard fumbled to set up a work lamp near the table. Laura remained silent until the man stepped away again, then sighed a little and said quietly, “All right, partner. Tell me what to do.”


	4. Chapter 4

Waking up without Gil was worse than falling asleep without him there. Thad went through the motions of getting ready without paying attention to what he was doing, mind churning over possible plans for continuing the search. He wasn’t hungry but knew he should eat, so he stepped into the galley and stopped short when he saw his sister sitting at the table, expectant gaze focused on the doorway. “Silla!...when did you…?”

“Vetra called me.” She stood and crossed the room towards him. “I cut my trip short. Valeria can handle things on her own.”

Thad let out a breath and hugged her tightly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Silla stepped away and gestured to the full plate on the table that Thad now realized was for him, not for her. “SAM filled me in. What do we know so far?”

“Not much. We’ve been searching in a systematic sweep starting from the port.” Thad stiffened as a sudden thought occurred to him and he slumped forward, elbows on the table, and buried his face in his hands.  _ “Fuck. _ I have to call Jill. What am I going to tell her?”

“That you’re doing everything you can.” Silla nudged the plate closer to him and waited until he started eating before she asked, “Have you figured out a plan from here?”

Thad shook his head dejectedly. “Barely. We’ve got no leads on the surface but no proof that he was taken from the planet. I can’t leave, but the longer I stay, the farther away he could be. I’ve got nothing.” 

“You’ve got me now,” Silla said firmly. “Listen. I brought Magdalena with me to fill in for Gil so you can take the  _ Tempest _ and follow up on any ships that left the system. I’ll take Vetra and Liam and we’ll stay to search on Kadara.” She tapped her foot against his ankle. “You know I’m good at digging.” 

Thad was too worried to feel hopeful, but Silla’s suggestion was a good one, and he nudged his sister’s foot under the table in return. “Okay.”

“Listen.” Her eyes were gentle. “Call Jill. In the meantime, Maggie will get things ready to go and I’ll look at where you’ve already searched so the three of us can pick up where you left off.”

“Right.” He didn’t feel better, but at least there was a place to start. “Okay.”

* * *

Waking up in the holding cell was worse than falling asleep there. Gil pushed himself up to sit against the wall, stiff and exhausted. His sleep had been fitful, and his chest hurt more than ever - apparently there was to be no acclimating to the acrid air. Laura was still asleep, stretched against the opposite wall. They’d been working in the makeshift lab together for two days now, and In spite of her lack of experience, she’d caught on quickly and made a good partner. 

It was hard to gauge time passing in the windowless holding cell, but he was pretty sure it was close to morning, and he kept an ear out for the sound of their escort coming to take them to the lab. He’d been surprised (and admittedly relieved) when their captors had allowed them periodic access to facilities for basic hygiene, but he was pretty sure it was because they didn’t want to clean up after prisoners rather than any shred of human decency. They’d been given food and water - not much, but enough to sustain them. He hoped the other prisoners that had been brought in with him and Laura had been offered the same. He hadn’t seen them since their arrival at the base.

Gil folded his hands loosely in his lap, slowly rotating his wedding band around his finger. The value of the rings he and Thaddeus had exchanged was sentimental rather than monetary - no precious stones or metals had gone into making them - but he’d still worried that his captors might take it. But either they hadn’t noticed it, or they didn’t care. 

He couldn’t help wondering again if he should tell the slavers about his connection to the Pathfinder. He wondered if they might try to extort money in exchange for his return. But even if they did, despite his position and influence as Pathfinder, Thad didn’t have access to the kind of money they would likely want. And he wouldn’t put it past them to take any hypothetical ransom and kill him anyway. 

His chest burned and he realized he was hyperventilating. He hugged his knees tightly to his chest and ducked his head. He hadn’t thought missing Thaddeus could get any more painful than it was already, but it  _ had _ , and between his grief and the foul air, it was all he could do to keep breathing. His thumb worried the smooth surface of his ring for several long minutes before he managed to settle.

The metallic  _ clang _ of a door slamming open somewhere down the hall made him flinch. Laura jolted awake and sat upright, watching the door warily as she smoothed her graying hair into order. Footsteps and unfamiliar voices echoed down the corridor. Gil got to his feet and moved to the back of the cell, exchanging an alarmed glance with Laura as she joined him. He didn’t know what the new voices meant, but something about them sounded off.

The footsteps stopped outside the cell door, and Gil choked on a gasp of terror as the gray, angular face of a kett soldier appeared in the narrow window.

“Hey. Not those.” The slaver boss’ sharp voice came from somewhere behind the kett. “I told you, not all of them this time. Yours are down this way.”

The kett’s eyes glittered ominously through the window before they stepped away and continued on their way. 

Laura’s eyes darted from the door to Gil and back again. “They’re supposed to be gone!” she hissed in horrified disbelief. “They’re supposed to be gone!” It wasn’t strictly true - the kett had retreated, for the most part, but the threat hadn’t completely gone away - but just now, it didn’t matter. Gil shuddered and pressed back against the wall, heart banging against his ribs. From down the hall, they could hear the sound of doors being thrown open and shouts of surprise and terror from the prisoners who had been captured with them.

_ “No! You can’t do this to us! You fucking traitors, you can’t do this to us!” _

Gil cringed and shut his eyes as the kett and the slavers dragged the struggling prisoners past the cell on their way out of the base. Silence crashed down like a cinderblock as the door slammed closed behind them. 

“They’d be better off dead.” The words blundered free before Gil could stop them. He could feel himself starting to hyperventilate again. “Better dead than with the kett.”

Laura gave him a piercing look. “You know something,” she said raggedly. “Tell me.”

“They’re experimenting.” Gil slid unsteadily down the wall to slump on the ground. “You know the kett turn angara into themselves? By the time the Archon was taken out, they’d started experimenting on other species.”

She watched him warily as she sat down across from him, mirroring his pose. “How do you know that?”

He let his head fall back against the wall behind him. “Because I saw it. I’m the engineer on the  _ Tempest, _ ” he said wearily. “Thaddeus Ryder is my husband.”

“Hooolyyyy shit.” She stared. “You married the Pathfinder.”

Gil shut his eyes until the sting of sudden tears faded. When he opened them again, Laura was still watching him. “You could tell them,” she said in a low voice. “They might try to ransom you. Maybe you’d get out.”

“Or maybe they’d just sell me to the kett for even more, so they can use me to hurt the man who killed their Archon,” Gil answered tightly. “No. I can’t. I have to - ” He clenched his fists, took a shaky breath of burning air. “If there’s any chance of us being found, Thad will find us. I have to believe in him.”

Laura shook her head. “It’s your call.”

“He’ll find us,” Gil said again, ignoring the desperate voice within himself that cried out  _ But what if he doesn’t? _

Both of them tensed at the sound of returning footsteps, and Gil got to his feet when he heard the lock on the door screech open. The boss stood there waiting for them and tilted his head in the direction of the lab. “Late start today,” he said flatly. “Better get to work.”


	5. Chapter 5

Three weeks passed without seeing anyone except the boss and the man chosen to guard him and Laura while they worked. Once near the end of the second week, the slavers brought in more prisoners. Gil and Laura never saw them, but once more they listened in dread as the kett came to take them away. 

“I don’t know if I can stomach this again,” Laura whispered miserably as they hunched together over a Remnant circuit board.

Gil just nodded, jaw clenched tight against the welling nausea and despair. Three weeks. Nearly a month. His meticulously groomed beard was starting to fill in, and his ring sat more loosely around his finger. 

Aside from the guard, the slaver crew kept their distance from the lab. So when the sound of footsteps and voices drew near a few days later, Gil exchanged a worried look with Laura and shifted around to the far side of their work bench to get a clear view of the door. The boss entered - no surprise there, Gil had long ago learned to recognize the sound of his voice even distorted by the filter mask - but the man who followed behind him was a stranger, not one of the slavers.

Alarm jolted down his spine like an electrical current. His hands froze on the keyboard halfway through a programming sequence at the sight of another human. _Help us!_ He barely managed to choke back the words before they slipped out. Laura saw his tension and gripped his knee underneath the table, squeezing hard. It hurt, but it grounded him, and his rational side caught up with him. Human or not, anyone showing up here was no friend and would provide no aid. He touched her arm in response and she released him, going back to cleaning the grit out of an Observer’s gears. 

“Well. You weren’t lying,” the stranger said, eyes sweeping around the lab in grudging admiration. “Impressive little assortment you’ve got here. We might be able to do business after all.”

The boss grunted, folding his arms. “You wanted to look around. So look.”

The stranger tsked in amusement behind his filter mask. “So pushy.” He started walking slowly between the tables, scanning components every so often with his omni-tool. He was a study in contrasts to the slavers - stance casual where the slavers’ posture always threatened violence, dark skin and hair clean and well-groomed up against their ragged appearance.

He glanced in Gil and Laura’s direction once as he passed nearby, but when he looked up again he met Gil’s eyes, and his gaze abruptly sharpened. Gil swallowed and looked down, focusing on the screen in front of him. 

“Tell you what,” the man said, leaning his hip against one of the tables. “I’ll take the two crates, like we discussed, and I’ll give you an additional five hundred gallons of fuel if you throw in the redhead.”

Gil didn’t move, could hardly breathe as his throat closed in dread. 

The boss gave a derisive snort. “What happened to ‘not in the market for living cargo’?”

The man shrugged. “What can I say? I’m an impulse shopper.” The boss just stared at him with narrowed eyes. “Come on. Six hundred.”

The boss gave a harsh bark of laughter. “Guess we’re none of us free of vice, eh? Well, sorry. That one’s not for sale. He’s the only reason I’ve got the tech to sell you in the first place. I’m not gonna give you the golden goose no matter how much you offer me for him.”

Gil’s hands were shaking too much for him to type. He sat rigid as stone, head bowed over his console, face burning, sick with disgust. If the stranger had a reply to that, he couldn’t hear it over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. 

He remained awake for a very long time once he and Laura were returned to their cell that night. He huddled in the corner of the small room, arms folded tightly around himself. He wasn’t cold, but he couldn’t stop shivering. Despite his inner mantra of _he’ll come, he’ll come_ , Gil could feel himself starting to unravel. “I can’t do this anymore,” he whispered into the dark. Even speaking under his breath, he had to swallow several times against the urge to cough. His voice was hoarse after weeks of breathing the unfiltered air, and he knew the planet’s harsh atmosphere was damaging their unprotected airways. His throat burned constantly, and he found himself short of breath even when moving at a walk. 

He startled badly as Laura’s hand curled around his own. He hadn’t realized she was awake. She didn’t say anything, but she held on tightly as his breath hitched and his shoulders began to shake, and he gripped back hard in return. 

He hadn’t expected to sleep at all that night, but he must have drifted off at some point, because Laura’s coughing woke him. He sat up with a jerk, leaned over to put a hand on her shoulder. “Whoa, hey.” His own voice came out as a croak but he hardly noticed, because Laura’s wheezing was only getting worse. 

She let him help her sit up, but waved him irritably away once she was leaning against the wall. Her cough abated after another moment or two but her breathing didn’t ease, and Gil watched her gasping breaths in increasing concern. “You all right?”

“Still with the stupid questions,” she rasped. 

Gil huffed and slumped against the wall next to her. “Well, once I found my niche...” She elbowed him in the side in lieu of a laugh. Gil listened to her labored breathing, left hand curled into a loose fist to press the pad of his thumb against his ring as he thought things over. As much as the boss’ exchange with the stranger the day before had made his skin crawl, part of it had stuck in his mind. 

So when the guard came to get them to escort them to the lab, Gil pressed Laura down with one hand on her shoulder and got to his feet. “We’re not coming. Not until you give us masks.” 

“If you want to keep breathing _at all_ , you’ll move,” the guard growled.

Gil shifted to stand in front of Laura, heart pounding as he looked the guard in the eye. “This planet is killing us,” he said, willing his voice not to shake. “We can’t work if we can’t breathe. We need masks.” The guard stared at him for a moment or two before slamming the door shut and walking away. 

“Well, that got a reaction at any rate,” Laura said. 

“Or something.” Gil wasn’t sure if it was a good sign or not, but it had felt good to refuse an order for once, even if his refusal had simply been asking for something. 

The guard returned shortly, this time with the boss in tow. The boss tossed a filter mask at Gil’s chest that he just managed to catch, then stood there watching him.

Gil straightened his shoulders, forcing himself not to look away. “There are two of us.”

“Supplies are limited. I’ve just got the one.” The boss folded his arms over his chest.

“I would think you’d be able to find another one if the golden goose asked for it.”

The boss started, then gave a mocking laugh. “Didn’t like that, did you?” Gil set his jaw and stared him down. “Look, _goose_ , you asked for a mask, you got one. Up to you whether or not you use it, but keep in mind you’re only useful to me as long as you’re able to work. The tech is a nice bonus but it’s a side business. I was making money long before you came along.”

In spite of the threat, defiance flared in Gil’s chest. He didn’t know if the boss was lying about not having another mask or not, but if his captor wasn’t going to give in, neither was he. Ignoring the crawling feeling between his shoulders as he turned his back on them, he knelt down and offered the mask to Laura.

Anger and fear flashed in her eyes. “You shouldn’t do that,” she said, pitching her voice low so the boss and the guard couldn’t hear.

“You need it more than I do,” Gil answered. He pressed the mask into her hands. “I’ll be all right.”

“Gil.”

“Take it.” He managed a smile. “I’ll be all right.”

She pressed her lips together, clearly unhappy, before giving in and whispering, “We’re going to talk about this. But thank you,” and slipping the mask over her face.

* * *

_“Thaddeus. Wake up.”_

Thad jolted awake, adrenaline surging at the urgency of SAM’s voice in his head. “Wha - SAM, what is it? Did you - ”

_“A transmission is coming to your private channel. I cannot trace the source.”_

It could be anything. It wasn’t necessarily about Gil. But Thad bounded out of bed, stumbling in the dark, and crashed into the chair in front of his terminal. He pulled his sleep-tangled hair back with shaking hands and answered the hail.

“Hello, Ryder.”

The air left Thad’s chest in a surprised rush. “Reyes.”

“I am sorry to disturb your rest, but this couldn’t wait.” Reyes leaned onto his desk and laced his fingers together. “I know where your husband is.”

“You…” Thad felt the blood drain from his face, and his already pounding heart started racing. “Where? How? Is he - ”

“He is unharmed. And as far as I could tell, safe for now.” Reyes’ mouth firmed. “He is in the custody of slavers.” 

Relief at hearing that Gil was unhurt warred with fear and anger at the news of who had taken him. Thad could hardly hear because of the ringing in his ears but made himself focus, because Reyes was still talking.

“When I recognized him I tried to buy him to get him out of there, but they refused to let him go. They have him repairing Remnant technology so they can sell it.”

“You recognized him? You’ve never met him, how would you - ?”

Reyes gave him a lopsided smirk. “Ryder. I work in information. Give me _some_ credit.”

“Right. Of course.” Thad couldn’t control the tremor in his voice, but he didn’t care. “Where is he?”

Reyes didn’t comment on it. “I’ll send you an email with the location of their base. I don’t know the full layout - they only escorted me to their workshop, and I don’t think they keep him there all the time. But it's definitely him. I'm certain he’s there.”

“And you found this place how?”

Reyes’ expression cooled at the accusation in his voice. “I am no slaver, Ryder. I followed a lead on purchasing promising tech, nothing more.”

“...Sorry.”

“Apology accepted.” 

Thad’s omni-tool chirped with notification of a new message. The sender’s information was blocked and the subject line was empty, but there were planetary coordinates with a latitude and longitude listed below. “Thank you.”

Reyes shrugged. “You let me go when you could have killed me. I am repaying my debt.” His expression darkened, and he leaned forward. “Ryder, I know these men. They are ruthless. Hit them hard. Hit them fast. You cannot negotiate with them. If they know you want him, they will kill him.”

Fear sank cold talons into his heart. “Why? Do they...know who he is? Who he is to _me?”_

Reyes shrugged. “I don’t know. They didn’t seem to, but it didn’t come up and I didn’t ask. I didn’t think it would be wise to seem too curious about him. But it doesn’t matter. They will never agree to give him back, no matter how it might benefit them.”

Thad took a deep breath, hands gripping his knees to keep them from shaking. “Thank you. For telling me. And for trying to get him out of there.”

“Well, it appears as if it’s up to the Pathfinder once again to do what we mere mortals cannot.” Reyes gave him a lopsided smile. “Good luck, Ryder.” The screen went black.

Thad slumped forward, heart pounding. “SAM.” His voice shook. He couldn’t focus enough to understand the coordinates below the message, but SAM was already ahead of him.

_“I am charting a course.”_

“Wait. Wait.” _Hit them hard. Hit them fast._ Thad stood, pacing a few steps back and forth before halting in front of his console again. “Chart it from Kadara. We need to pick up Silla and the others.” He pushed back from his desk, slapped at the wall until he found the light switch, and hurried into his armor. After weeks of anguish, the hope almost hurt him more, and he tried desperately not to dwell on Reyes’ ominous warning. 

The crew roused quickly, and by the time they were nearing Kadara, Suvi had pulled up what little she could find on the planet they’d been directed toward. “There’s really not much,” she said, shaking her head. “The only reason I found information at all was because of Jaal’s resources; the Roekaar had a base there but they abandoned it more than five years ago. Inhospitable atmosphere, no flora or fauna…”

Standing behind her chair, Thad leaned over her shoulder to frown at the screen. “Malfunctioning vaults?”

“No. Just a planet that doesn’t want anything living there. It’s not immediately toxic to humans, but prolonged exposure could be damaging.”

“How ‘prolonged’?”

She bit her lip. “A few days?” Seeing Thad’s expression, she reached up to grip his hand. “We don’t know how long he’s been there.”

Thad squeezed back in return. “Good work, Suvi. Send the file to the rest of the team.”

Six hours later found them docked at Kadara port. Silla boarded the ship at a run, seizing Thad by the arm as she skidded to a halt. “You found him?”

“Reyes did.”

She stared. _“Reyes?”_

“Yeah. Come on, I’ll explain on the way.”


	6. Chapter 6

They waited until nightfall, until the planet’s rotation brought the base into darkness. And even then, time stretched interminably as the _Tempest_ circled in a wide arc and landed several miles away to hopefully avoid detection. 

Thad kept outwardly calm as he boarded the Nomad along with Silla, Jaal, Vetra, Draack, and Cora, but his chest ached with mingled hope and dread. He believed that Reyes’ information was good - or had been, a few days ago - but the very real possibility that Gil had been moved or hurt was a frantic thrum at the back of his mind. 

_“Do you trust Reyes?”_ Silla had asked when Thad had told her everything. _“What if these men are rivals of his and he’s using you to take them out? He’s tried it once before.”_

_“I don’t trust him,” Thad admitted, “but I believe him. He’s a professional liar but he’s not cruel. He wouldn’t lie to me about something like this.”_

_SAM chimed in. “I have repeatedly analyzed Mr. Vidal’s body language and changes of expression during the conversation with Thaddeus, Silla. I believe that he was being truthful.”_

_“And he does owe you for letting him go,” Silla sighed. “All right. That’s good enough for me.”_

Thad settled into the driver’s seat and the Nomad gave a lurch as it set off down the ramp. The vehicle’s running lights were off but a dim green glow filtered back into the rear compartment as he switched to night vision. 

They disembarked a kilometer out, slipping from the Nomad into the still night air. There was no moonlight but the coordinates popped up on the navigation for Thad’s HUD and the team set off. The rocky terrain climbed steeply toward a range of tall, rocky hills. 

“We’re getting close,” Thad said over the com. 

Jaal lifted his sniper rifle and peered through the scope. “I see a shuttle.”

Thad’s heart gave a lurch but his voice remained calm. “Any movement?”

“Not yet.”

The team fanned out as they drew near, slowing to a cautious pace. The base was dark, no signs of life even as they crept close to the entrance. Thad glided up to stand next to Jaal as he eyed the door. “It’s locked,” Jaal said, whispering even though his voice was confined to the group channel, “but it’s not a fortress.”

Thad glanced up at him. “You can hack it?”

“No. But it can be broken down.” Jaal stepped to the side and gestured to Drack. 

Drack gave a low _Heh_ and backed up a few paces, then lowered his shoulder and charged. 

The door stove inward with a reverberating _clang_. Drack backed up and charged again, and the door flew off its hinges and clattered into the room beyond. Thad darted in after him, Silla at his heels. 

The room was dark, but beams of light from their helmets gave enough illumination to see by. From somewhere distant, shouts and clattering echoed down the hall. Thad swept his arm out and the team scattered, finding cover in alcoves and behind crates. Lights flared on and running footsteps came closer. Thad braced himself, weapon at the ready. He caught a glimpse of someone taking a glance through the far doorway, and shouted, _“Drop your weapons! Stand down!”_

The only response was a gunshot. At a nod from Thad, Jaal threw a grenade. The explosion blackened the far door and brought blistering return fire. Thad ducked, but a second grenade blew the door out completely and they heard shouts as the slavers retreated.

“Go on, I’ll cover you!” Cora barked. She snapped a barrier into place over the smoking doorway and Thad charged forward, catching the purple-white flare of biotics as Silla blinked forward beside him. Through the doorway the hall curved out of sight. A glance at Jaal had the angara shaking his head - too narrow for grenades - so Thad waved Cora ahead. Blue light wreathed her body as she covered herself in a barrier and ran forward. She staggered back as a shotgun blast clipped her in the shoulder but her barrier held, and screams echoed back toward her as she thrust out her hands and tossed men and equipment through the air. 

“Last chance!” Drack bellowed. “Give up now and maybe we don’t grind you to paste!”

The ensuing volley of gunfire sent all of them diving for cover. Silla blinked into Vetra and sent them both tumbling behind a rocky outcropping. Vetra swore as she scrambled to right them both. “I don’t think you convinced them, old man!”

Drack chuckled darkly. “Wasn’t trying to!”

“Ryder!” Cora’s voice crackled with static in his ear. “On my six!”

Thad crouched like a sprinter, launched himself forward and blinked behind her. As soon as he was in place, Cora braced herself and charged, blasting a path forward. Bodies tumbled and the shattered remnants of storage crates shattered in her wake. Thad scrambled to jump over and duck under flying debris, shooting with grim accuracy as the slavers tried to recover and return fire.

Silla pivoted on her heel as silence fell, rifle held at the ready. “Is that all of them?” she asked breathlessly.

“I dunno.” Thad swallowed dryly, pulse picking up rather than slowing in the momentary lull. There’d been no sign of prisoners, nothing to indicate anyone other than the slavers was living there, but… “This place is a lot bigger than it looks. We’ve got two more doors over there.”

She tilted her head and looked up at him. “Well, so - door number one, or door number two?”

Vetra snorted. “Which is which?”

Before Thad could answer, the east door crashed open. Drack slammed into him just before the enemy’s grenade bounced to the ground two meters from where he’d been standing. The impact knocked the wind out of him but Thad rolled to a crouch and popped a new clip into his assault rifle with hands that were mostly steady. “I think,” he said breathlessly, “we can decide on door numbers later.”

* * *

Gil rattled awake with a gasp that set him coughing. “What - what was that?” 

Above the filter mask, Laura’s eyes were wide with alarm as she scrambled up. “I think it was an explosion.” 

The sound of distant gunfire echoed down the hall, and a second unmistakable deep _thud_ shook the ground.

“That was a grenade,” Gil rasped. “Someone’s attacking the base.” He gulped, trying to silence his rebellious cough. More weapons fire reached their ears, muffled by barriers of rock wall and metal doors, but unmistakable. He rose to his feet and started moving toward the door, but Laura’s hand clamped like a vice on his arm.

“What if it’s the kett?” she whispered.

He hadn’t thought of that; come to think of it, he hadn’t considered that maybe this was another group of colonists-turned-criminals that were invading the base. Desperation to see Thad again was nearly overwhelming but the reminder of their precarious position chilled him and he slowly shrank back, disoriented by the dismal feeling that he didn’t know if he should want the invaders to win or not. The sound of battle paused for a tense moment or two before breaking out again even closer. Laura reached for his hand again, gradually coaxing him further away from the door. 

Silence fell again, and this time things stayed quiet. Laura and Gil waited in agonized silence. Gil shuddered at the horrid cold thought that perhaps the base had been ransacked and the invaders departed, leaving the two of them behind to starve. He’d spent countless hours staring at the inside of the cell door, and even though he’d never tried to break out for fear of retribution, he’d had more than enough time to ascertain that it would be virtually impossible to break free from the inside. 

The door at the far end of the hall suddenly clanged open, causing both of them to flinch as if they’d heard a gunshot. There was another silent pause before they heard the sound of soft, careful footsteps growing nearer, advancing and pausing every so often as the person stopped to peer into the empty cells.

Laura’s grip on his hand grew painfully tight, and with a rough tug she pulled Gil behind her and backed into him, shepherding him back against the wall before he could resist. He tried to pull his hand free but she elbowed him sharply and shook her head. Gil was broader than she was, but she had an inch or two on him and in the darkness of the cell with her arms slightly spread, he was all but out of sight behind her. She squeezed his hand once more, a silent command to remain still, and although he didn’t like it, Gil obeyed.

His heart climbed into his throat as the footsteps grew near, and he felt Laura startle as a shadow darkened the small window to the cell.

“Don’t be afraid,” the newcomer said. “We are here to help you.”

Relief swept through him at the familiar voice, leaving him lightheaded, and when he pushed against Laura again she couldn’t hold him back. “Jaal!”

“Gil!” Jaal’s surprise and elation were clear even distorted by his helmet speakers. “Thank the stars!” He turned to face the way he’d come and hollered, “Ryder! He’s here!” Turning back toward Gil and Laura, he raised his gun. “Stand back.” He waited until they had moved to the back of the cell, then emptied his clip into the hinges, one after the other. The door rattled and sagged, and with a grunt of effort he wrenched it away to discard on the ground. 

Running footsteps, a flash of red and black, and Gil’s heart leapt at the sight of Thad’s familiar armor.

“Gil! My god - !” The ragged cry was all Thad could get out before Gil threw himself into his arms. He crashed against Thad’s breastplate hard enough that he knew he’d have bruises but he didn’t care, embracing him so fiercely that his arms ached. Thad held him so tightly that he could scarcely breathe. Gil felt him trembling even through his armor. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he rasped. “I’m all right - no, keep your helmet on, you idiot!” he said, catching hold of Thad’s wrists to stop him. He swallowed a laugh before it could turn into a sob of relief and leaned into him, pressing his forehead against the faceplate of his helmet. “Just get me out of here.”

Thad nodded stiffly and turned to go, arm firm around Gil’s shoulders as he led the way out of the cell. Gil glanced back briefly to make sure Laura was okay - she was leaning on Jaal but seemed to be all right - and then he just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. 

He shuddered as they stepped around the scattered bodies of the slaver crew on their way, but then Silla came up and ducked under his free arm; and although she was too short to lean on easily, he felt better with her on his other side.

Cora had gone to retrieve the Nomad and driven it up to the entrance by the time they made it out, but Gil was already out of breath. He said nothing, though, leaning on Silla as Thad climbed in and reached down to take his hand. 

The instant the door sealed behind them, Thad tore off his helmet, ignoring the clatter as it hit the floor, tears in his eyes as he held Gil’s face in his gloved hands. “Are you all right?” he asked again.

Gil had no breath to answer, but he nodded before falling forward into his arms. Thad choked out, “My god, I thought I’d lost you.”

“...Knew you’d come,” Gil managed to say. Between his damaged airways and the emotion gripping him by the throat he could hardly speak. Thad’s tears were warm on his neck. He could see Laura watching the two of them with wet eyes and he hid his face against Thad’s shoulder to keep himself from breaking down entirely. 

He was dimly aware of Cora telling the others to strap in for the drive back to the _Tempest_ , but hardly noticed as Thad moved back and took his face in his hands again, thumbs brushing away the damp trails as they trickled down into his beard. “You’re sure you’re okay?” he asked, voice and hands shaking. “You’re not hurt?” 

_Hurt_ was a relative term - Gil had done nothing but ache for weeks - but he knew what Thad meant. He managed a wobbly smile. “I’m not hurt.”

Thad let out a breath, briefly pressing their brows together, but the raw sound of his voice had him looking worried. His eyes skated over to Laura, who had discarded her mask and dropped onto the seat, still breathing hard. “But you’re not all right. Neither of you are.” He cupped the back of Gil’s head in his hand and kissed his forehead. “We need to get you back.” 

Gil slumped against him on the bench seat. Thad kept an arm around his shoulders, holding him close to kiss the top of his head, heedless of the sweat and dirt in his hair. “It’s okay,” Gil managed to say, speaking low so only Thad could hear him. “I’m with you now. I’ll be okay.”

Cora drove the Nomad straight into the _Tempest’s_ docking bay and turned half around in her seat to smile back at them. “Hey, look. The welcoming committee is here.”

“What?” Gil leaned forward enough to see through the windshield and took an unsteady breath as he saw the rest of the crew waiting for them to disembark. “...Oh.”

Thad gently squeezed his hand. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Gil swallowed. “Yeah, sure.” 

“They’ve all been worried about you, kid,” Drack rumbled. 

“You need them to leave?” Vetra asked.

Gil gave her a grateful look but shook his head. “No, it’s okay.” Even so, his composure was fragile enough as it was, and he wasn’t sure if he was prepared to be mobbed by the rest of the crew. But when they climbed out, although a collective sigh of relief swept through them, they kept their distance. 

Only Suvi came forward a step or two, hands clasped tightly as she watched him approach, leaning on Thad. Despite his exhaustion, Gil smiled at the sight of her and held out his free arm. 

At the invitation, she ran forward and hugged him tightly. “I’m so glad you’re all right!” she whispered in his ear.

Gil shut his eyes and squeezed back, stooping slightly to accommodate her. “Good to see you, Muffin.” 

Sandwiched between Thad and Suvi, he felt a bit more steady and able to greet everyone else. Even so, he appreciated that PeeBee and the others exercised some restraint in their enthusiasm and didn’t crowd him. Lexi stepped to the side and approached an overwhelmed-looking Laura, still leaning on Jaal’s arm. They spoke quietly for a moment or two before she came over to join the rest of them. 

“Gil, whenever you’re ready, I’d like to chat with you.” 

“Sure, doc.” 

She’d left it open-ended but Gil knew an order when he heard one, and he let his arm slip away from Suvi’s shoulders. She patted his back and stepped away as Thad walked him toward the medical bay. 

Gil let out a breath as he stepped through the door. He’d known Lexi kept the infirmary a few subtle degrees warmer than the rest of the ship, but he’d never realized how comforting it felt until now, exhausted and on his last legs. Lexi was already out of sight, behind a curtained-off area with Laura. Thad guided him to one of the beds and pulled the curtain closed around it while Gil sank down to sit on the mattress. A neatly-folded cloth gown had been placed at the foot of the bed, and he reached for it with an unsteady hand. 

Thad softly rested a hand on his back. “Do you want me to give you a minute?” 

“No. Stay.” 

Thad waited with him while he changed, then stepped close when he sat on the edge of the bed again, gathering Gil’s hands gently within his own, remaining steady when Gil gripped back hard. Thad bent to press his lips against his forehead, letting them linger as he whispered against his skin, “What _happened?”_

“I dunno. I was just sitting in Kralla’s Song when a fight broke out. You know what it’s like, it happens all the time. But then someone plowed into me, and I don’t know if they put something in my drink or injected me with something. I don’t remember anything after that until I woke up in the back of a transport.” He inhaled shakily. “They never said... _why_ , I don’t know why - ” He gulped. “It was broad daylight, in a crowded room. I-I don’t know why _me_. I thought at first it was because they knew who I was - who you were - but…they didn’t. All that time, they never even asked my name.” His voice broke and he fell silent. In truth, he wouldn’t have wanted to disclose his name but it somehow was just as bad that his captors hadn’t even acknowledged that he had one.

“I don’t know why, either,” Thad said after a moment. “But you weren’t targeted. I’m not sure if that helps.”

Gil let out a humorless breath of laughter. “I’m not sure, either.”

“Gil?” Lexi’s voice came from the other side of the curtain. “May I come in?”

He reluctantly shifted out of Thad’s arms. “Yeah, I’m ready.” 

Thad stepped to the side, but stayed close. Lexi’s gaze moved between the two of them as she entered through the curtain. “You know I try to maintain doctor-patient confidentiality,” she said kindly, “but you’ve both agreed that your medical records may be disclosed to one another. So, Gil, it’s up to you. If you’d like to see me privately and then speak with Ryder later, you may; but since this will just be an exam, with no sensitive medical procedures, if you’d like him to stay I don’t have any objections.” 

Gil looked at Thad. He plainly didn’t want to leave, but he gave Gil an understanding little smile and tilted his head toward the door, a silent question. Gil shook his head. “I’d like him to stay.” 

Lexi’s exam was efficient and gentle. He answered her questions about how he felt and if he’d been injured, unintentionally or otherwise. “They didn’t hurt us,” he said quietly as she drew a few vials of blood. Thad didn’t make any sound or any movement, but Gil sensed his relief all the same. “We just...worked. They didn’t lay a hand on us after that first day.”

Lexi nodded in acknowledgment, warming the bell of her stethoscope between her palms before touching it to his skin. “Take a deep breath for me, please? Inhale as much as you can.” Her expression remained calm as he tried to comply and only managed to fill his lungs halfway. “Once more, please? Deeper, if you can.”

Gil tried again, but his chest spasmed and he curled forward with a gasp of pain, wheezing coughs bringing tears to his eyes. 

Thad’s hands were warm on his chest and back as he reached out to support him. “Easy,” he murmured. He lifted worried eyes to Lexi’s face, but bit back his questions until she had listened to Gil again and looked into the back of his throat. “What’s wrong?”

“The planet’s atmosphere left chemical burns in your airways,” Lexi said, addressing Gil. “It’s caused scarring and damage to your lung tissue, and left you with emphysema. It’s why you’re having a hard time breathing.”

Gil’s hold on Thad’s hand tightened. “Is there anything you can do?”

“If our medical technology were twenty years older, no. But fortunately, yes, this is something we can treat. I don’t have the proper supplies on board the _Tempest_ , but Harry will have it on the _Hyperion._ ”

“So he’ll be okay?” Thad asked.

She smiled. “Yes, he’ll be okay.” She deactivated her omni-tool with a flick of her wrist and turned her attention back to Gil. “Ordinarily I might keep you in the infirmary for observation, intravenous fluids, and have you wear an oxygen mask; but you’re not having trouble breathing when you’re at rest, your dehydration is mild, and you’re oxygenating well enough.” She gave him a compassionate look. “A few more hours until we reach the _Hyperion_ won’t make a difference _._ I think bed rest in your own quarters will be adequate, as long as you tell me at once if your breathing difficulty gets worse.”

Gil smiled weakly, grateful for her understanding. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” Despite moving like an old man, he was able to walk on his own, but he leaned on Thad anyway just for the comfort of touching him as they left the medical bay. Thad walked him to the showers, where he scrubbed three weeks of grime from his skin while Thad cleaned up after the fight. 

It was the middle of the _Tempest’s_ day cycle, but when they got back to their quarters, Thad changed into his pajamas along with Gil and climbed into bed beside him. Gil sank down against him and buried his head against his chest, clinging desperately tight. Thad, mindful of his limited breathing, held him gently, but his arms were warm and sheltering.

For a long time, they didn’t speak. Thad cradled the back of his head in one hand, gently stroking up and down his spine with the other. Gil gradually relaxed, soothed by his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his breathing, tension gradually draining from his frame until he was simply laying against him. 

Thad took a shaky breath. “God, Gil - ” His voice came out choked and he stopped, pressing an earnest kiss to the top of his head.

Gil swallowed hard. “I know.”

They fell silent again. Thad slid his hand down to rest at the base of Gil’s skull, rubbing with firm, gentle pressure up and down the nape of his neck. Gil found himself starting to smile. Massaging around the base of Thad’s amp always turned him into a puddle of goo, and it hadn’t taken Gil long to notice that Thad automatically would touch him the same way to offer affection or comfort, without thinking about what he was doing. Gil found it both amusing and heartachingly endearing. 

“How did you find me?” he asked quietly.

“Reyes Vidal, believe it or not.” He kept gently kneading the back of Gil’s neck. “Somehow he heard about remtech being offered for sale and went to check it out. He saw you in the workshop and recognized you.”

Gil stiffened. “He - what? How? ”

Thad’s shoulders shifted slightly as he shrugged. “Back when we worked together on Kadara, he apparently looked up everybody on the entire crew. He must not have forgotten. He said he tried to buy you to get you out of there, but - ”

“That was _him?”_

Thad looked down, concerned by Gil’s sudden tension. “You knew?”

“I - I heard him,” Gil stammered. “In the workshop when he came, I heard him offer - ” Something churned in his chest and his breath hitched, unsure if he were about to laugh or cry. “I didn’t know who he was, and all I could think was - ” _Being taken away, taken even farther away from you, losing what I had left of myself -_ His throat closed and he couldn’t speak. He felt unmoored, finding out that the worst moment of his captivity had been an attempt to save him, and tears flooded his eyes, hot and sudden.

The air left Thad’s chest in a rush. He hugged Gil tightly and kissed the top of his head, whispering into his hair. “Oh, babe.” Gil curled up against his husband and cried. Weeks of fear and grief came shuddering out of him as Thad held him close. “It’s okay,” Thad murmured, voice thick with emotion. “It’s okay.” 

The warmth and safety of Thad’s arms and the steady, gentle touch at the back of his neck anchored him, and Gil gradually quieted, utterly drained, but calmer. When he lifted his head, Thad gave him a gentle smile despite his own red eyes and wet cheeks, but he still looked worried. “Everything all right? Do you need Lexi?”

“Hm?” Gil realized he was breathing hard, slightly winded, but it was fading. “Oh. No. It’s fine.”

“Okay.” Thad gave him a little squeeze. “Give me a minute?”

Gil nodded and rolled off of him to let him get up, stretching out on his side in the patch of warmth Thad left behind. He was beyond exhausted but stubbornly refused to shut his eyes. Thad returned soon, though, bringing a cup of water and a damp washcloth. Gil held the cold cloth against his eyes until the ache faded, drained the cup at Thad’s gentle urging, and cuddled against him once more when he climbed back into bed. 

Thad began stroking the back of his neck again. “I sent a message to Jill while you were finishing up in the shower,” he murmured. “She sends her love and said she’ll wait for you to call when you can.”

“Okay.” Even coming up with the one word reply was almost too much effort. Gil knew later he would be grateful and relieved that Thad had kept her in the loop, but now he just felt hollow, unable to think or sense anything past his weariness and Thad’s warm, solid presence. He felt himself fading, but managed to rasp out, “Love you,” before his eyelids became too heavy for him to hold up any longer.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” Thad whispered. “Get some rest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How big is the Nomad? Eh, who knows. It's as big as I need it to be. :3


	7. Chapter 7

Kallo wasted no time getting the  _ Tempest _ back to Meridian. Gil slept heavily against Thad’s chest the whole time, not even stirring when the ship shifted subtly as it entered atmosphere. Despite several hours of uninterrupted sleep, he still looked completely wrung out. Thad let him rest until Lexi pinged his omni-tool to check in. 

“SAM, could you please tell Lexi we’re on our way?” he asked.

_ “Of course.” _

Thad hated to wake him, but he started rubbing Gil’s back and very gently nudged his shoulder. “Hey. Wake up, sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing Gil’s temple. “We’re here.”

It took a bit of coaxing to get through to him. Gil hid his face against Thad’s shoulder with a groan, but after a moment or two he allowed himself to be roused. Thad helped him dress and walked him over to the  _ Hyperion _ .

Thad had spent far too much time in the ship’s medical bay for his liking during Silla’s recovery - both while she was in a coma and after the attack by the Archon - but during the two weeks that Gil was hospitalized, he hardly left. Silla ran interference for those who wanted an audience with the Pathfinder. In a switch from the Milky Way, the name Ryder was now synonymous with leadership. She effortlessly took over Thad’s duties, and people accepted her without a fuss. 

Both Gil and Laura wore masks over mouth and nose around the clock, breathing a mixture of oxygen, aerosolized medigel, and anti-inflammatory agents. Harry also set them up with intravenous drips of antibiotics and tissue regeneration serum. During his twice-daily examinations, Harry assured Thad that Gil was responding well, but Gil spent most of his time sleeping. The taste of the gas and the effect of all the medications on his system left him feeling weak and nauseated, although Laura wasn’t as badly affected.

“It’s just differences in the way their bodies process the drugs,” Harry told Thad apologetically when he asked about it. “Nausea can be one of the side effects, and unfortunately Gil seems susceptible.”

Thad held Gil’s hand, lax and too thin between his own. His face was lined even while sleeping, tan skin sallow and clammy.

“This is only temporary,” Harry said, squeezing Thad’s shoulder. “Believe it or not, he’s healing remarkably well, and I expect to release him on schedule.”

Thad nodded, reassured if still unhappy. He gently caressed the back of Gil’s hand with his thumb and stared at the floor.

“Pathfinder.”

He startled, looking across Gil’s bed to where Laura sat propped against her pillows. Her voice was slightly muffled by the mask but her eyes were keen. “Yes? I’m sorry, I haven’t really spoken to you much…”

“You’ve had other things on your mind,” she said, eyes canting toward Gil. “He’s a brave man, you know. He saved my life three times. Did he tell you that?”

Thad sat up straighter. “No, he - I haven’t asked him about what happened.” With the slavers dead and no trial or judgment forthcoming, it hadn’t seemed necessary to press him for details. “I figured he’d tell me in his own time.”

“He might. But in case he doesn’t, I will.”

Thad listened, heart pounding as Laura told him everything Gil hadn’t. He felt cold all over when he heard about the killing of the prisoners on the road, and the news that the slavers had been selling their captors to the  _ kett _ filled him with rage and terror even though Gil was safe with him. 

“He told them I could help him repair the Remnant tech,” Laura went on to say. “I don’t know what they would have done to him if they found out he’d lied, but he took the risk anyway. And he gave me the filter mask when those fuckers only gave us one. I wasn’t going to last much longer without it.” She looked down at her folded hands for a moment before meeting Thad’s eyes again. “He might not ever want to talk about it, but you should know what he did.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Thad said hoarsely. In the back of his mind, he knew they’d need to try to find leads on where the kett may have taken the slavers’ other victims, even if there wasn’t much hope for them, but right now all he could think about was how very close he’d come to losing the man he loved. He took a shaky breath to collect himself, gazing at Gil’s face, half-obscured by the breathing mask. “I’m sorry this happened to you, but...I’m glad he wasn’t alone.”

“Well. If I had to be locked up with someone…” She shrugged with wry humor, then sobered. “He’s a good man.”

“He is.” Gil’s hand twitched and Thad realized he was holding it too tightly. “Sorry,” he murmured when Gil blinked hazy eyes open. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s okay,” Gil mumbled. “Was kind of awake anyway. I could hear your voice. What were you talking about?”

“About how I married the best guy in the Heleus cluster.”

Gil huffed a laugh. “Just in Heleus?”

Thad smiled. “Heleus  _ and _ the Milky Way. Is that better?”

“Eh. It’s a start.”

Thad rested a hand on Gil’s chest and gave him a gentle pat. “Feel up to doing your breathing exercises while you’re awake?”

Gil grimaced behind his mask, but nodded. “Yeah. Just let me get up for a sec.”

Thad helped Gil unhook the mask and set it aside, giving him a sympathetic look at the expression of relief on his face once he was breathing normal room air again. In spite of his shaky appearance, Gil had no problems getting to the lavatory on his own, wheeling his IV stand along with him. Thad stood up and stretched while he waited for Gil to come back, feeling a welcome swell of relief when he saw him walking easily when he returned, glad to see that he wasn’t getting winded by normal activity anymore.

Gil plopped down to sit on the edge of his mattress, giving a resigned sigh as he fitted the mask over his face again. Thad stood in front of him and rested a hand on his shoulder as he inhaled slowly and deeply several times, holding his breath for as long as he could before releasing it in a controlled exhale. His throat worked as he swallowed against the sick feeling in his stomach but he didn’t stop, even when a thin sheen of sweat broke out on his temples. 

He leaned forward and thunked his head against Thad’s stomach when he was done. “Why don’t you ever take me anywhere nice?” he rasped.

One side of Thad’s mouth ticked up as he gently massaged the back of Gil’s neck. “When you get out,” he promised. “Just a few more days. And you’re getting better, aren’t you? Your breathing is almost back to normal.”

“It is,” he agreed resignedly. “But I’m going to have some strongly worded feedback for the suggestion box when Harry gives me my parole hearing.”

Thad’s smile grew. “There’s a suggestion box?”

“No. That will be my first suggestion.” Gil smiled as he felt Thad’s chuckle rumble in his chest, and he sighed, wincing at the chemical, astringent taste of the gas in his mouth. 

Thad sighed too. “Just a little longer.”

* * *

Havarl always smelled like rain. Gil stood on the small porch behind the hab and drew in a deep breath. There was no pain, no catch in his chest, and he closed his eyes and drank in the scents of damp earth and wet grass. The hab was relatively new but plants on Havarl grew quickly, and curling vines had already climbed up the posts of the porch and opened fragrant, pale blue flowers. The night insects sang to each other in the dark, and through the thick canopy overhead he could just see a patch of star-studded sky.

Soft footfalls behind him, bare feet on wood. “You’re smiling,” Thad murmured, drawing close behind him to wrap his arms around Gil’s waist. 

“Just glad to be here with you.” 

Thad rested his chin on Gil’s shoulder. “It’s a bit quieter than the last time we were here, isn’t it?”

Gil chuckled. “A bit.” They’d gone to spend time on Havarl after their wedding, but their angaran neighbors had been bemused at the human concept of a honeymoon. In spite of Jaal’s assurances that spending time alone together was what humans did after weddings, his true mother had had none of it.  _ “If they are coming to Havarl,” _ she’d said firmly,  _ “then we are going to celebrate their marriage  _ **_properly_ ** _.” _ Thad and Gil had been surprised but touched when they’d been greeted by most of Jaal’s family, along with a few other angaran families, bringing flowers and platters of food to their borrowed house for an extended party that had lasted for three days. This time, Sahuna had come by once since they’d arrived - bringing food, of course, and making them promise to call her if they needed anything before she returned to her home to give them space and solitude.

“You okay?” Thad whispered.

“Yeah,” Gil whispered back. They’d had time to talk since he’d recovered, time for him to tell Thad everything that had happened. There were still nights when he woke out of a sound sleep with the sound of gunfire in his ears, shaking and gasping for breath before realizing he was safe, but they came less often. “You?”

“Yeah.” Thad nuzzled the side of his neck, pressed a kiss beneath his ear, kissed him with gentle fervor when Gil turned his head.

“How much longer d’you think we can convince Silla to fill in for you?” Gil asked in a low voice, nudging their noses together.

Thad smiled and kissed him again. “Depends how much time off we want to give her and Vetra once we get back. And it depends on how long Tann and Addison can put up with her. Right now they think they like her better than me because she’s not a smartass, but that’s just until they figure out she’s just as stubborn as me but not as charming.”

“Charm? Is that what you call it?”

Thad pinched him. “Well, it seemed to work on you. What would  _ you  _ call it?”

“You’re saying you flirted with Tann the same way you flirted with me? No wonder he finds you exasperating.”

Thad burst out laughing. “Ouch!” He snugged him closer and pinched him again. “Sass me all you want, Brodie, but I’ve never heard you complain.”

Gil swatted his hand but he was smiling and didn’t pull away. “All right, fine - guilty as charged.”

Thad laughed again, warm and low, and rested his chin on Gil’s shoulder again. Gil leaned back against him and closed his eyes. Thad’s chest was solid behind him, arms warm around him, breath soft against his neck. “I’m not afraid, you know,” he said, just loud enough to be heard over the song of the night insects. Thad made a soft  _ Mm? _ noise that said he was listening. “Of hypothetical things that could happen, I mean. I want you to know. Granted, I’m not going to wander around by myself on Kadara anytime soon…”

“ _ None _ of us are wandering around alone on Kadara  _ ever _ ,” Thad interrupted with a snort. 

“No argument here.” Gil half-smiled, echoing his light tone; but the way Thad held him a little too tightly said everything his words didn’t. He turned within the circle of Thad’s arms, reached up to brush his bangs out of his eyes, held his face in his hands. “I’m not afraid,” he said again. “No matter what happens, you’ve got me.”

A subtle tremor ran through Thad’s frame. “I almost didn’t,” he breathed shakily.

There it was. Gil knew he wasn’t the only one coming awake in the middle of the night to escape the dark memories painted on the inside of his mind. He leaned close against him, kissed him tenderly. “But you did. Listen, I...I knew there was a chance I might not make it. But I also knew that if there was any chance of being found at all, you would find me. And if you never did, well...it would mean that nobody could have.” Thad started to shake his head but Gil didn’t let him speak. “Maybe it doesn’t make sense to you, but that’s okay. It does to me.” His voice started to shake, but he pressed on. “I believe in you, Thaddeus. I always have, and I always will. You will never give up on me.”

Thad took a shuddering breath and held him tightly, tucking his face against the curve of his neck. Gil shut his eyes and let him breathe, waited for the trembling in his shoulders to abate. Thad exhaled sharply. “Did you, um - ” He let out a shaky laugh. “Did you just drop some Rick Astley on me?”

Fighting a smile, Gil tried to sound stern. “I did not.”

“I definitely think you did.”

“You hear Rick Astley in everything, you idiot.” Thad snorted a laugh against his shoulder, and Gil lightly smacked the back of his head. “If you start singing, I’m locking you out on the porch.” 

“You like it when I sing.”

He was right, of course, and he knew it, but Gil didn’t have to acknowledge it. He lifted Thad’s chin with his fingertips. “But there are so many other things you could be doing with your mouth.”

Thad’s smug look turned a little wicked and he laughed again. “See, you’ve got no room to pick on me for my taste in music when you’re a bigger cheeseball than - ”

Gil never found out what he was being compared to as he silenced Thad with a kiss and pushed him into the house.


End file.
